


My Soul From Out That Shadow

by tenrousei_kuroi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Brother/Brother Incest, First Time, First War with Voldemort, Implied Bestiality, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Other, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stockholm Syndrome, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 10:34:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6980806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenrousei_kuroi/pseuds/tenrousei_kuroi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1979, Regulus Black stole a Horcrux from the Dark Lord, fully expecting to die for his efforts. He assumed no one would miss him, but he misjudged his brother. Now that Sirius has found Regulus again, he is not keen on letting the boy leave…ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Soul From Out That Shadow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Performance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Performance/gifts).



> This one makes me a tad nervous. It is not going to be everyone's cup of tea. If you liked it, let me know! If you didn't like it...then leave a comment with a request for something you'd rather read from me instead :)
> 
> Also it's unedited and therefore probably riddled with typos, but I wanted to post it while I had the chance before I leave internet access again. So I'll sneak back in sometime later this week to tidy this all up a bit.

 

 

_Azkaban Island, June 1993 (Sirius)_

“Sirius, pass me your lighter…I _know_ you have one! Quick…before the guards come back!”

Sirius heaved a deep, silent breath. He was sitting with his back against the slimy stone wall of his cell, leaning his face against his cell bars. He closed his eyes. “For the last time, _no_ , Lestrange.”

Rabastan shuffled around in the cell opposite Sirius. In what little light there was, Sirius could see him pull at his hair and scratch at his emaciated arms.

“ _Please,_ cousin?” he begged. “Bella’s sister slipped me a few cigarettes when she visited last, but I need something to light them with.”

“You don’t have any cigarettes,” Sirius muttered, more to himself than to Rabastan. The poor lad had gone halfway around the twist some months ago, who even knew how many of Sirius’s words he actually understood.

“Yes I do! Two of them. You can have…this one, now please let me borrow your lighter? The dementors are coming for me tomorrow and this is my last chance!”

Something plopped to the ground just outside Sirius’s cell. Surprised, he saw a dirty cigarette rolling slowly to him. Slightly amazed, he stretched a skeletal hand through the bars to pick it up.

“The dementors are not coming for you, Rabastan,” he said automatically. “Just like they weren’t coming for you yesterday, or last week, or any other time you thought they were.”

“They are, Siri, _they are_ ,” Rabastan whined. “They’re going to take my soul away from me; I’m next on their list!”

Sirius could hear the tears in his cousin’s voice. With an exasperated sigh he sat up and reached under his mattress and pulled out a small, green lighter. Contraband, he’d managed to nick it off a reporter who’d come in for an interview. Just about the only benefit of being completely sane in this hellhole was that Sirius’s mind was well above the expected level of competence for a long-term prisoner. As such, none of his “visitors” were ever careful with their trinkets, and he’d amassed quite a selection over the years.

“Here, now shut up and let me enjoy my two minutes of peace!” Sirius yelled. He threw the lighter and it skidded over to Rabastan’s cell where it collided with one of his bars with a loud _ding._

Rabastan babbled some thank you’s and then Sirius saw the boy’s dirty, pale face illuminated for a long second by the flame of the lighter. His dark eyes were sunken in and narrowed as he focused on the cigarette in his mouth. The flame of the lighter danced frantically in his shaking hands. Unable to stand and deal with the cigarette at the same time, Rabastan sank to the ground, joints cracking loudly. One drag in, he slumped over with a contented sigh.

Sirius twirled Rabastan’s second cigarette around in his fingers. His motor skills had not fared so well over the years and he dropped it several times.

How had he gotten here?

Sirius was the first person to admit that he probably deserved his cell, the nearly omnipresent dementors, the _nightmares_ …everything. He’d been thrown in here for the wrong crime, though, a crime he hadn’t committed. Those two clear, unhappy thoughts were enough to keep him sane and motivated if nothing else.

Sirius wondered what it would be like to have your soul sucked out. You wouldn’t die, but could you really be called alive, either? Sirius had seen one prisoner get kissed before; a Death Eater, naturally, and he had been keenly aware of the deadened look the man’s face had taken on. The capacity for emotion was completely gone. But was it that a soulless wizard could _feel_ no emotions, or were they merely incapable of expression? Perhaps the Death Eater’s pain and terror had all been there, hidden under a mask of emotional paralysis.

Sirius had done far worse than that man ever had. Were a dementor to kiss Sirius Black it would likely be poisoned.

It would be like a cure for him, however, Sirius reckoned. He hung his arms out through his cell door, staring lazily at Rabastan’s body as he writhed in the ecstasy of his severe nicotine addiction. If an Azkaban guard took Sirius Black’s soul, it would remove all that was dark in him, wrong. Sometimes Sirius wanted that. After years and years of thinking, a part of him wanted to experience life with none of those dour obsessions that had always plagued his thoughts.

But these ideas always came to the same quick end, and Sirius once again dismissed them as a brutal thought exercise.

No, Sirius Black had better things to spend his time ruminating on: like getting his sorry ass out of this prison. The weather visible from his small, high window was so calm tonight, though, and that would never do. Sirius Black would escape during a storm; he needed the noise.

So this was a waste of a rare, dementor-free moment, but no matter. Sirius would wait. He’d been waiting for a long time, learning to make his own entertainment.

“Hey, Lestrange,” Sirius barked. Rabastan flinched so hard he nearly dropped his half-done smoke. “You better stop making love to that cigarette, kiddo. I can hear the guards coming back,” he added in a frightening whisper. Rabastan fell onto his side with a light thud, arms wrapped around his head and mewling in terror. Sirius tucked Rabastan’s cigarette away in the inner pocket of his dingy prison robes and laughed.

* * *

 

_Grimmauld Place, June 1974 (Sirius)_

Sirius would be leaving his family soon. There was a place waiting for him at James’s and he would be a fool to not take it.

So he spent these last few weeks in a sort of anxious melancholy. Many of those days he spent in the family library, because that was often where Regulus was. Even right now, Sirius was lounging on a settee, watching intently through the small gaps in the shelves from missing books. Regulus’s form ghosted back and forth. Sometimes he would come around to Sirius’s side of the shelf, a stack of books and manuals tucked against his chest. Sirius watched the boy scrutinize names and titles before putting everything back where it belonged. When something belonged on a high shelf, Regulus would have to _stretch_ , slowly and cautiously, like a cat, and Sirius would find himself staring at the small, creamy line of skin that inevitably peaked out from under Regulus’s shirt.

“You’ve missed one, Reggie,” Sirius commented wryly. He grabbed a tome from the table beside him and tossed it unceremoniously to the floor.

“Sirius!” Regulus scolded, picking the musty thing up instantly and cradling it like it was a child. “Don’t throw it! …and you could help me, you know. Mother wants all these put back before dinner,” he added before returning to his work, his slender back to Sirius once more.

“I was helping earlier,” Sirius argued.

“Yes, that’s why _I’ve_ been here so long, redoing everything.”

Sirius smirked and continued watching Regulus in silence. The way the boy moved was sinful. Sirius wondered how Walburga and Orion Black could ever have created something so beautiful, so perfect.

Sirius wanted to take Regulus with him, but the idiot would never go. He was too attached to their parents, too blinded by his station to think clearly for himself. Sirius had fantasized though many scenarios where he simply stole Regulus away, forcing him to leave Grimmauld Place, but each time he had to concede that James’s parents would never allow it.

He could come back, though. When he was of age and had a place of his own, he could always come back for his little brother, if it wasn’t too late.  

The dinner bell rang.

“Shit!” Regulus whispered. “Sirius, please help me get this one up, it’s the last one!”

Regulus was straining to place the book on the topmost shelf. He couldn’t quite reach and swayed uneasily. Sirius stood up pushed the book the last few inches to get it safely in its place. Regulus sighed and clunked back onto his heels.

“Thank you—” he began, cutting off with a grunt of pain as three or four thick genealogy volumes crashed down on his head.

“Oh, sorry,” Sirius said slickly. He quickly put the books back. “Come here, are you hurt?” He faked a look of concern and pulled Regulus close to him. “Let me see.”

Sirius could feel his skin tingling. Touching Regulus, having him so close, was absolutely intoxicating. Sirius ran his hand down Regulus’s face and brushed his fingers through his silky hair.

“M’fine,” Regulus insisted. Sirius held him for one more second. He leaned in close and breathed hard the scent of his little brother—today musty book pages and the mint gum he’d chewed earlier.

When Sirius announced he was leaving, would Regulus beg him to stay? Sirius’s mind was briefly flooded with ideas. He was going away forever, Regulus would _have_ to be sad. He would surely throw his arms around Sirius, kiss him even, and beg him oh-so-prettily. It would give Sirius an excuse to press their faces close together…

“Let go, you girl, we’re going to be late for dinner,” Regulus scolded. “And I, unlike you, don’t fancy getting yelled at.” He wriggled free of Sirius and rubbed at his head ruefully. “Wish you weren’t so goddamn clumsy. Third time you’ve hurt me this week!”

Regulus scooped his robe off the hanger by the library door and swept it on. He and Sirius headed down to dinner.

Part of Sirius wanted the rush of storming off during their meal. It would be exciting to throw his plate to the ground, screaming at those ideological bigots he called parents. He had his things already packed so he could easily just make a scene and then run, but something stopped him. Regulus. This would be the last time he’d see his brother for a while, so it seemed fitting that he and Regulus be alone for his grand exit.

So that night Sirius crept into Regulus’s bedroom. It was a warm night. Sirius let his bag slide to the carpet softly. He approached Regulus’s sleeping form.

Regulus usually slept without a shirt on. Sirius prayed he’d be lucky enough for that to be the case tonight. He gently slid back the covers, bringing them to a rest around Regulus’s waist. The bright moon in the window lit Regulus’s bare skin a gentle white. For a while, Sirius just watched Regulus’s chest rise and fall. He ran a gentle hand down Regulus’s back, tracing the sleepy curvature of his spine…

Sirius knew from experience that Regulus would never wake unless you touched his face, so he got his fill before pulling the blankets back up and then, with a sigh, tapping Regulus lightly on the nose.

While Regulus stirred, Sirius explained himself.

“I’m leaving Reg, I can’t stand them anymore.”

Regulus opened one bleary eye. “Figured you would eventually.”

His words gave Sirius pause. How could Regulus be so flippant about Sirius’s departure? Wasn’t he crushed? Sirius was leaving him all alone, how could Regulus show such apathy?

“It’s not because of you, Reg,” Sirius said cautiously, sticking to the script he had planned out. By now, Regulus was fully awake.

“Okay,” he said dully. “See you around then. Good night.” He rolled back over and closed his eyes.

Sirius glared, angry that Regulus would grant him no excuse to touch him, hold him…

“Well,” he said coldly, picking up his things. “I’ll save a spot for you on the right side of the war if you ever find your senses. You’ll know where to find me.”

Regulus said nothing, only shrugged his shoulders. Sirius left his room, wearing the same bitter scowl that he always did when something was denied him.

* * *

 

_London, July 1979 (Regulus)_

Regulus Black had hit that point where he could no longer feel. He knew he should be cold. He knew he should be wet. And he knew he should sense the pain of the cement against his joints.

But all he felt was numbness. Not a comfortable numbness, no. When he blinked, there was a heavy, grating feeling as his eyelids scraped across his eyes. When he shifted there was an ungodly tension in his bones, as though moving one more inch would cause something to snap.

Maybe he should just let himself die.

Wouldn’t that be ironic? Regulus craned his neck to stare up at the house numbers.

_2887_

That was Sirius’s address. Regulus stared at the fading paint on the eaves before his eyes filled with rain and he slumped back over. He’d made it this far. The Dark Lord’s locket was dull and heavy in his hand. It seemed to be anchoring him to the ground; Regulus couldn’t have lifted that hand if he’d tried.

Regulus hadn’t spoken to Sirius in years, and while Sirius’s last words had been an offer of refuge should Regulus ever need him, Regulus wasn’t sure the promise was still good after so long.

Regulus started to feel another convulsion coming on. He gave an almighty lurch and dry heaved onto Sirius’s front walk. It seemed the Dark Lord’s poison wasn’t keen on letting him die peacefully, or indeed swiftly. Regulus could see the first hints of dawn peeking through the streets and knew someone would see him soon. It wouldn’t do to be spotted by some muggle, and frankly, Regulus didn’t like his odds with a wizard, either. He gritted his teeth and with his free hand, pounded loudly on the side of Sirius’s small house, because the door was just barely out of his reach. He only stopped when he heard something crack in his hand. Then, exhausted, he slumped over and fell asleep.

* * *

 

Regulus awoke in his brother’s bed with Sirius fussing over him. His clothes were gone, and his wounds had been clumsily bandaged. Regulus groaned and pulled away from Sirius, who was rewrapping some sort of splint that was holding two of his fingers together.

“Regulus,” Sirius said excitedly. “Are you awake? Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Regulus muttered. “Loudly. Shut up, I hurt.”

“You’re awfully rude for someone who showed up three-fourths dead on my doorstep last week, looking like a drowned cat.”

“Last week?” Regulus asked, shocked. He sat up slowly, mindful of his aching body. “What day is it?”

“Tuesday,” said Sirius calmly. “You’ve been drifting in and out for a while. Glad to see you pulled through.”

Regulus sneered at Sirius’s butch tone. He was about to retort when he caught sight of his Mark.

There it was, affixed permanently to his skin like a cattle brand. Regulus noticed it was a shade darker than usual, and the skin around it was red and painful; he must have missed several summonings.

Sirius had to know he was a Death Eater now. There was no way he wouldn’t recognize the Dark Lord’s sign. He and his Order friends were sure to have seen it cast into the sky.

“Sirius?” Regulus said cautiously. “I was…”

Sirius nodded at Regulus’s arm. “…Getting ready to explain yourself, I hope?”

“Yes,” Regulus said immediately. “I…thank you for giving me the chance,” he whispered. His brother could have thrown him immediately to the dementors, Regulus was keenly aware of that. Sirius knelt on the bed next to him and placed his face very close to Regulus’s.

“Of course,” he murmured. “Now why don’t you tell me how you got into such a state?”

Regulus shuddered involuntarily, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and vulnerable in his nudity. He started to talk, though, stuttering a little at first but gaining momentum. With each word Sirius seemed to creep closer, until he had Regulus in a strong grip. Regulus watched closely his brother’s eyes, and could almost see his brain grinding merrily behind them, because Sirius’s eyes were getting that familiar spark. It was the one Regulus had seen countless times at home and at school when Sirius had been forming a heist. It was the look he’d worn before snitching spirits from Father’s cellar or sweets from Mother’s cabinets…Sirius Black was zeroing in on something he wanted.

Regulus closed his eyes when he had nothing left to say. He almost screamed when he felt Sirius’s lips brush his forehead.

“Why don’t you rest now?” Sirius said quietly.

Regulus looked at him in amazement. “You believe me?” he asked in awe. “Just like that?”

Sirius nodded. “Of course I do. You could never lie to me, remember?”

Regulus blushed. “Sirius, I—uh…”

Sirius ran a hand through Regulus’s hair and for the first time Regulus realized it was slightly damp. Had Sirius washed it?

“You were going to ask me if you could stay here?”

Regulus gasped. “Yes,” he said softly. “Just for a while, I mean…Sirius I have nowhere else to go. You know it’s impossible to lie to the Dark Lord; he’ll have me killed for this!”

“Hush,” Sirius said gently. “Of course you’ll stay here. I’ll strengthen the wards tomorrow. No one will find you.”

Regulus felt so overwhelmed he could have cried. He tried to stutter out a thank you, but Sirius shushed him. Then Sirius pushed Regulus firmly down onto the pillow and as if on cue, Regulus felt himself slip back into a blissful sleep.

* * *

 

Over the next few days, Sirius was anxious and distant. Regulus spent almost all his time in bed, taking various medicines and glaring at his bandages. After a week, he regained the full use of his injured hand.

Sirius checked on him frequently, but seemed constantly preoccupied. When Regulus inquired, Sirius told him he was making the rest of Regulus’s medicine.

“But I’m basically healed,” Regulus said in confusion. “I feel fine, Sirius, really. I’m not sick anymore.”

Sirius smiled at him sadly. “Tomorrow,” he promised. “You’ll be all better…tomorrow.”

Regulus didn’t sleep much that night, feeling uneasy. Sirius slept in bed next to him as he did every night. This night, however, instead of maintaining a respectful distance, Regulus found that Sirius had slid up right next to him. Regulus had to lean to ensure they didn’t touch.

* * *

 

Regulus tried valiantly to argue his way out of drinking the potion the next evening.

“Sirius, I’m _fine!_ ” he yelled. “Whatever it is, I don’t need it!”

“Calm down,” Sirius chastised. “It’s not even ready yet. I was wrong in my calculations. You’ve got another day to wait, I’m afraid.”

Regulus eyed him uneasily.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “It’s water, Reg. I’ve brought some for myself as well, see?” Sirius held up two identical glasses, and then set them on the nightstand. “I’ll be right back with dinner, you little freak.”

Regulus calmed down a bit. When Sirius returned with two plates of food, Regulus smiled at him and took a drink from his glass by way of apology. Sirius was being so kind to him, who was he to behave so badly?

“There you go,” Sirius said encouragingly. Regulus tilted his head.

“This…isn’t water,” he said slowly. It had a bitter aftertaste and was far too thick. “You lied to me,” he shouted, glaring at Sirius.

Sirius only shrugged. “You weren’t cooperating,” he said simply. “Now calm down and lay back. If you stress yourself, this may not work.”

Regulus slumped back against the pillows, but not out of compliance. His whole body was feeling heavy, and he was having trouble breathing. It was as though something were constricting on him. Immediately, he began to panic.

“What are you doing to me?” he cried hoarsely. The feeling got worse and worse. A sickening _weight_ crept up from Regulus’s stomach, filling his throat.

Sirius crawled on top of Regulus, the second glass in one hand. “Don’t be scared,” he said gently. “And don’t struggle. Just close your eyes, this’ll be done soon.”

Regulus thrashed frantically, but couldn’t manage to move more than a few inches. Most of his muscles had shut down and the clarity in his vision was starting to fade. Regulus knew this feeling all too well: he was drowning.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Sirius leaned down and kissed his cold cheek. Then he placed two fingers below Regulus’s jaw, feeling his pulse. “Don’t worry,” he said. “You just need to go under for a few minutes. It won’t be long.”

The weight in Regulus’s throat and torso felt like fire now. Frantically, he tried to breath but nothing could get past his mouth. There was a searing pain in his left arm, but Regulus couldn’t move his head to look at it. It felt as though his Dark Mark were being carved out of him.

Tears streamed from his eyes, which began to roll back in his head. Regulus lost his hearing last and for a few moments was blissfully unable to see, hear or feel anything before he lost consciousness.

“Hey there, my little prince, wake up!”

Regulus jolted awake. The light from the bedroom’s fireplace was almost blinding.

He shivered for a moment before exploding into a fit of coughing. He felt Sirius take hold of him.

“There now, how do you feel? Can you hear me?”

Regulus was shaking uncontrollably. After a long while, he managed to croak, “What was—?”

Sirius ran a hand up and down his back in a comforting way. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he said. His words were soft but they didn’t reassure Regulus.

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing now,” Sirius said sweetly. “In fact, you’re all better. Now there’s nothing to worry about.”

Regulus was slowly regaining the feeling in all his limbs. Stiffly, he pulled his arm to his face. The Dark Mark was still there, but it had faded to a dull grey, and had blurred around its edges.

“Did you kill me?” he asked in awe.

Sirius smiled. “And then I brought you back. You’re completely safe now, Reg, dead to the world. You’re dead to Lord Voldemort, and you’re dead on Mum’s tapestry. No one will be looking for you now.”

Regulus tried to get up, but Sirius wouldn’t let him. He was suddenly terrified. “G—great, Sirius,” he whimpered, too scared to voice how angry he was. “So…you don’t need to put up with me, then. If no one’s looking for me, I can disguise myself and get out of your hair.”

Sirius laughed so loudly Regulus flinched.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “You’re staying right here. It’s perfect, Reggie, just how I’ve always planned it!”

“Planned?” Regulus asked.

“I never wanted to leave you behind, Regulus,” Sirius said earnestly. “I was always going to come back for you eventually, and now here I have you. _You_ came to _me!_ Just like I always hoped you would.”

 “What’s wrong with you, Sirius?” he asked feebly. Sirius had rolled on top of him now, holding all of Regulus’s body down. Regulus turned his head to the side in a futile attempt to ignore what was happening.

“I waited a long time to have you all to myself, Regulus,” Sirius said sincerely. His warm breath was making Regulus’s head spin. “I came so close, but I never could!” Sirius explained in a desperate voice. “If anyone had found out…they would have taken you away from me. We would have gotten into trouble.”

Regulus couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had been dead, and now Sirius was speaking of their situation like the worst consequence was parental disapproval.

“Get off of me, you sodding freak,” Regulus muttered, trying to make his voice sound firm. Telling Sirius off had never failed before. This time, though, Sirius didn’t budge. Panic-stricken, Regulus pushed at Sirius’s chest and tried desperately to roll out from under him, but to no avail; Sirius was too large. With a sinking feeling, Regulus realized that without the threat of professors’ or their parents’ retribution, Sirius had no reason to listen to him.

“You can’t keep me here!” Regulus said desperately. “Sirius…”

But Sirius was beyond logic or reason. He shook his head at Regulus and started murmuring in an infuriatingly matter-of-fact tone. Regulus knew he was explaining the various wards he’d placed on the house, but he wasn’t really listening. All he had heard was that he was trapped. No one was looking for him, and they would never find him even if they were.

That first night was one of the tensest Regulus had ever experienced. He and Sirius passed the evening together in Sirius’s living room. Sirius busied himself writing several letters while Regulus sat rigidly on the couch, too scared to do much more than breathe. He’d never felt this kind of fear before: fear of a confidant. There was something fundamentally different about fearing Sirius. It was an alien feeling. Sure, he and Regulus had never gotten along _that_ well, but they were still brothers, and Regulus had always thought of Sirius as his protector. Now he was uncertain.

Regulus couldn’t fathom why Sirius would want him here so badly. Sirius had never made it a secret how little connection he felt to his family. Sirius would instinctually feel compelled to keep his little brother safe, Regulus reasoned, but why go to such extremes? Why hold Regulus prisoner?

“Come on, Regulus,” Sirius said promptly. He set his work aside and pulled Regulus off the sofa. “It’s late.”

Regulus followed Sirius back to his bedroom. Sirius magicked himself a glass of water and set it on the nightstand. Regulus felt his hand twitch. He’d lost his wand in the cave.

Regulus reached for the cup, intending to take a drink before settling into bed, only to be stopped by Sirius, who snatched his wrist with a snap.

“Sirius? Can I just have some water?” Regulus asked cautiously. Sirius had a chilling smile on his face.

“Of course,” Sirius said sweetly. “But you have to give me a kiss first.”

Regulus blinked. “What?” he demanded. “Don’t be crazy…”

Sirius sat down on the bed and pulled Regulus to his knees in front of him. “I’m waiting, Reggie.”

With a low growl, Regulus leaned up and pecked Sirius lightly on the cheek. Then he tried to turn away, but Sirius grabbed his chin. “No, no, no,” he reprimanded. “Like this.”

Sirius pressed his lips down on Regulus’s and the younger man froze. He was stone-still until Sirius bit him, prompting him to gasp. Sirius used the opportunity to prize Regulus’s mouth fully open with his own and press his tongue against his brother’s. Regulus thrashed and bit down hard.

Sirius threw him backwards with a snarl. “You little brat,” he hissed, wiping at the blood blossoming out from his mouth. Regulus’s heart stuttered; the way Sirius spat out the word ‘brat’ felt crueler than any legitimate slur he knew. Regulus scrambled backwards but before he could stand up, Sirius was upon him.

“Why do you always have to be so difficult?” he demanded, hauling Regulus up and out into the hall.

“Let go,” Regulus whined, clawing uselessly at Sirius’s arms. “Where are you taking me?”

For one glorious moment, Regulus thought Sirius was going to throw him out and this whole surreal nightmare would be over, but instead Sirius took him to a small hallway closet and threw him unceremoniously inside.

Regulus landed hard against a wooden crate and several empty coat hangers fell down on him. Before he could do much more than stagger to his knees, Sirius had shut and locked the door.

Regulus knew immediately what was happening. As children, they had both frequently found themselves on the receiving end of this type of punishment. Sirius especially had spent many a long night alone in the basement storeroom or cellar. Regulus tried to stand up, but the closet’s shelf was too low so he sat back down, painfully wound up between the box and the door.

“Sirius, come back!” he yelled. “Let me out! I’m sorry I bit you. Please don’t…”

But pleading had never worked on their parents, either. Regulus banged futilely on the door a few times, but it wouldn’t budge, and he was a fool if he thought Sirius was above silencing him. So he saved his voice. When Sirius shut off the hall light, Regulus was plunged into a total darkness.

Regulus had no concept of how long he was inside the closet, but likely only a few hours. Sirius had never been very patient at the best of times. When Sirius opened the door, Regulus tumbled out onto the carpet, still bent up awkwardly, and there was an unsettling numbness in his legs that prevented him from standing for several minutes.

For a beat, Sirius merely held him to his chest, breathing softly on his neck and murmuring something so quietly Regulus couldn’t quite hear him. Regulus was too nervous to speak, afraid he’d slip up and get Sirius angry with him again.

But why had Sirius wanted to kiss him in the first place? Sirius had never been overly affectionate with Regulus. How long had it been since Sirius had hugged or kissed him? Since he’d spent much time with Regulus at all? Years, surely. The two brothers had hardly spoken since Sirius had run away from home and even before then, Sirius had been distant, coarse even. He’d only ever shown Regulus any affection in the aftermath of scuffles or minor accidents that had left Regulus injured…

Regulus cringed inwardly, feeling his skin start to crawl. He thought of how clumsy Sirius had always been around him when they were children, how he’d accidentally tripped Regulus up on the stairs, knocked him into the garden fence, smacked him with a stinging hex meant for a target on the wall…and how, without fail, Sirius had always scooped him up into his arms and tried to make everything better. Regulus remembered apologies falling from his brother’s lips, small jests at the expense of his clumsiness, and Regulus felt betrayed. Had Sirius been orchestrating those situations on purpose, to create an excuse to…touch him in a way that might otherwise have been telling of his intentions?

 _What intentions?_ Regulus thought furiously. _Oh, you know what. He just kissed you earlier, for fuck’s sake._

But Regulus could not accept that. Incest ran rampant in their family, but it was never by choice, always an arrangement of convenience. Sirius and Regulus were certainly not a convenient couple. They were both boys for one thing, and to Regulus’s knowledge, no one in his family had shacked up with a sibling in about a hundred years.

Perhaps this was all some elaborate joke at Regulus’s expense. Did Sirius think what he was doing was funny? Regulus dared to look up into his brother’s eyes and saw only cool determination.

“You calmer now?” Sirius asked him. Regulus only blinked.

“I’m going to take you back to bed now,” Sirius continued. He led Regulus swiftly down the hall. The youngest Black dragged his feet as much as he dared.

* * *

 

Regulus didn’t eat or drink for the next day. He was terrified that anything Sirius brought him might be laced with another poison. Eventually, though, the pain in his throat won out and he accepted a glass of juice from his brother.

“If I were going to poison you, Reggie, I would just force you to take it.”

Regulus bowed his head.

“Why am I here, Sirius?” he asked. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Isn’t it simple, Regulus?” Sirius asked. He leaned closer to Regulus, who was sat on the side of the bed. “You’re mine now, that’s all there is to it.”

“You’re holding me prisoner.”

“I’m taking care of what’s mine. What should have always been mine,” he added in a whisper.

Regulus eyed Sirius critically. “Sirius, you have to be up to something. This can’t—”

Sirius took hold of Regulus by the wrists and toppled him onto his back.  He pressed his lips to Regulus’s neck, resting on a pulse point. Regulus jumped. Sirius’s mouth felt cold against the panicked, flushed skin of his neck.

“You’re scaring me,” Regulus gasped.

“Perfect little Reggie,” Sirius crooned, kissing his way down to Regulus’s clavicle, burying his face in the younger man’s tussled shirt collar. “Mummy and Daddy’s little prince…but you were really mine! Always meant to be mine…they stole you from me…kept me from you.”

Regulus swallowed thickly, very conscious of how any movement on his part only knocked him back against Sirius’s hovering mouth. He felt Sirius’s teeth scrape his skin.

“Don’t do this,” he muttered. “Don’t do this, don’t do this—wha…what are you doing?”

Sirius was maneuvering his hands down Regulus’s shirt, nimbly popping the buttons one by one, exposing Regulus’s heaving chest.

Sirius sighed contentedly and began to unzip Regulus’s trousers. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited to have you like this?” he breathed.

Regulus thrashed and struck Sirius as hard has he could. Sirius leaned back for a moment and caught Regulus’s hands.

“I will put you straight back in the closet Regulus, and this time I will leave you there!”

“I’ll kill you!” Regulus screamed. “You fucking freak, I swear, I’ll— _don’t touch me there!_ ” Regulus’s words started fierce but by the end of his breath, he’d devolved into a desperate whimper. Sirius had slid Regulus’s pants down and had a tight grip on him. Regulus was horrified to realized that with all the thrashing and close contact, he was already half hard.

“Sirius, please let go,” Regulus begged. “I’ll do anything else for you, just not…we can’t do this!”

Sirius paid him no mind. Instead he slid to his knees and sucked Regulus into his mouth. Regulus’s back arched like a bow string ready to snap, and his breath caught. He felt his hand reaching out on its own to grasp desperately at Sirius’s hair. “Oh, gods,” he whispered.

Sirius kneaded his thumbs hard against Regulus’s pelvis as he dove up and down, taking Regulus all the way to the base. Amidst his humiliating bliss, Regulus felt embarrassed that he had not been grooming himself in anticipation of any sexual encounters. Sirius didn’t seem to mind. His tongue slid through Regulus’s curly hair and up his belly where Sirius bit down hard.

Regulus yelped and sat up. “S—Sirius,” he groaned. He was now painfully hard and as sick as it was, he wanted Sirius to finish him off.

“On your stomach,” Sirius commanded.

“What?” Regulus asked breathlessly. He reached down to touch himself but Sirius slapped his hands away.

“I said roll over.”

“But I thought you would—”

“Do I need to tell you again?” Sirius asked coldly. “Get yourself turned over or we’ll be doing this on the floor.”

Regulus reluctantly complied. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, his strained erection trapped against the comforter.

“Why, what are you going to do?” Regulus asked nervously. Sirius’s hands were roaming unchecked up and down his back, making sparks at each vertebra.

“M’going to fuck you, of course,” Sirius said plainly. “Now can I trust you to hold still for a moment while I go grab some lubricant?”

Regulus tried to push himself back up, but Sirius’s weight was too much. “How?” he asked, horrified. “I’m a boy, how can you even…?”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “How do you think, Regulus? You’re going to take my cock up your arse. Don’t tell me my little brother is a virgin?”

“Well I’m not married yet!” Regulus screeched. “So of course—”

“Always doing as Mummy and Daddy said, eh?” Sirius interrupted, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “You, such a handsome eighteen-year-old. I’d’ve thought someone would’ve had a little fun with you by now!”

Regulus elbowed Sirius fiercely, but under his brother’s restraint, the blow did little more than tire him out. “Well you’re wrong!” he said angrily. “Get off me, Sirius!”

But Sirius wasn’t listening; he was musing softly to himself. “How fortunate,” he said. “I was sure with how long I’d waited, I’d surely have missed out on your first time. But it looks like I’m in time after all!”

To Regulus’s surprise, Sirius released him and stood up.

“Stay here for a second, Reg,” he said sternly. “I need to grab something from the dresser, okay?”

“W—what?” Regulus asked warily.

“I told you,” Sirius said. “Lubricant, or else I’ll tear you up.” He turned from Regulus and walked across the room.

Regulus felt his heart accelerate at what he had just been told. _Tear him up?_ He had no intention of submitting to this kind of treatment without a fight. While Sirius’s back was turned, Regulus quietly sat up. He slid his trousers back up and then dashed from the room.

He had no hope of overpowering his brother, not without his wand, so his only chance was to get out the front door and start screaming. Somebody had to hear him.

Regulus skidded to a halt in the living room, momentarily disoriented. When he had his bearings, he surged towards the front door. Sirius didn’t seem to be chasing him yet; he had yet to even come downstairs, but Regulus didn’t think too much of it. Instead he threw himself at the front door and found he couldn’t get it open.

“Going somewhere?” Sirius’s voice made him jump.

Sirius stood leaning against the entryway wall, arms folded and a bemused look on his face.

Regulus didn’t waste any time. He ran down through the kitchen and into the dining room where he picked up the nearest chair and chucked it at the large, bay window. The glass didn’t shatter, it didn’t even so much as crack. With a cry, Regulus threw himself against it and tried to open it. When that failed, he screamed and flailed, trying to get the attention of someone out in the street.

“It’s no use,” Sirius said, putting a hand on Regulus’s bare shoulder. “They can’t hear you, or see you for that matter.” Sirius took a firm hold of Regulus’s fist, stopping his pounding on the window. “The wards won’t let you break your way out, Reggie,” he said softly. “And I’m the only one who can unlock everything.”

Regulus felt himself start to truly cry, something he’d not done in years. He threw his face into his hands and wept so hard he started to dry heave. Sirius only stood there, keeping Regulus standing with one arm wrapped around him, and waited.

“Are you going to behave yourself now?” Sirius asked when Regulus had ceased his tear-fest.

“Go to hell, Sirius,” Regulus snapped hoarsely. Sirius sighed exasperatedly.

“Fine,” he said. “Have it the hard way, Regulus. Are you hungry?”

“What?” Regulus demanded. The thought of food made his stomach lurch. “Of course not!”

Sirius shrugged. “Well you will be.” Then took ahold of his brother again and led him back through to the hall. Regulus knew immediately he was being taken to the closet again. When he struggled, Sirius lost what was left of his patience and struck him. Regulus felt immediately sick again and the vision in one eye blacked out for a moment. Sirius threw him back into the small cupboard.

This time, the boxes had been removed, so Regulus had enough room to lay curled up on the floor. He landed hard on his side when Sirius tossed him in. Sirius slammed the door shut and Regulus heard him walk away. The light was still on in the hallway, though, and Regulus could see the small beam of light filter up from under the door.

Regulus clapped his hands to his mouth but it didn’t do much good; his stomach heaved and he threw up all down his front. Disgusted, he cleaned himself off as best he could before struggling to his knees.

He was absolutely furious with himself for coming here, for ever thinking he could trust someone. He’d been brave enough to risk his life to make the Dark Lord mortal and what had he gotten himself for it? Smacked like a disobedient child, that’s what.

Regulus rested his face against the door. He wondered why his mind had leapt to the small hit Sirius had doled out rather than all the other horrors Regulus was experiencing. Perhaps because it was the most familiar part of all this. Regulus had been smacked plenty of times, but no one had ever held him down and tried to…

Regulus couldn’t comprehend what Sirius had tried to do—what his still _planned_ to do. Regulus felt he was fast running out of options. If he was still breathing when Sirius came back for him, who knew what he’d be forced into… He reached up a hand and felt above him. The closet bar below the shelf was bare; Sirius had removed all the sharp, metal coat hangers and Regulus felt his heart drop.

* * *

 

_9:00 pm (Sirius)_

Sirius changed his mind. He had been going to wait Regulus out, assuming the boy would eventually cave when he got too hungry, but that could take days, and Sirius was tired of waiting. Instead he checked on Regulus at the top of every hour for six hours. The first time, Regulus was volatile, swinging his fists weakly and screaming in desperation. Sirius noted grimly that Regulus had taken to battering and clawing at the door and walls; he would have to be sure to reinforce the door magically or else risk Regulus managing to break it down. Sirius’s lip curled when he noticed the mess Regulus had made and he cleaned him up with a wave of his wand. “Use this next time you feel sick,” he said harshly, handing Regulus a large bowl before leaving.

The next three times, Regulus was still spiteful and reluctant. He was too cramped up to move much, but he screamed and spit at Sirius like he was some sort of horrific creature come crawling out of the earth. Sirius gave Regulus a quick beating each time until he quieted.

The fifth time, Regulus didn’t yell or fight. He only covered his face and shook, anticipating being hit again, but Sirius didn’t touch him. He just stood there with the door open, letting the light hit Regulus for a few minutes before closing him in again.

After the sixth hour, Sirius knew he had won. He walked to Regulus’s door, unlocked it and let it fall open a few inches. Then he returned to his bed, got undressed and waited with a small smirk on his face.

Regulus came to him almost immediately. His shoulders were sagging and he looked completely crushed. He walked unsteadily to Sirius’s side and stood there, scratching nervously at his bruised arm.

“Are you going to put me away again when you’re done, Sirius?” he asked in a small voice.

Sirius thought for a moment before he decided. “No,” he said. “If you’re a good boy for me, then you can sleep here.”

Sirius could tell Regulus was terrified. His eyes hadn’t moved from Sirius’s erect cock since he’d come in the room, and he looked poised to run away. Sirius got Regulus situated on the bed

“Here,” he said softly. He took Regulus’s hand and spread a liberal amount of gel onto his fingers. “Get yourself nice and ready for me, ne?”

Regulus stared at his already battered hand like it had sprouted a sixth finger. “Y—you want me to do what?” he asked nervously.

“Take your hand and spread yourself open nice and wide for me,” Sirius said threateningly. “Or else I won’t fit, and you don’t want me shoving something inside you that doesn’t fit, do you?” he added smugly, whispering the words into Regulus’s ear. Regulus’s face burned with humiliation, but he tried to do what Sirius said.

Sirius was almost dizzy with anticipation. He liked it better this way, Regulus coming to him. Regulus was precious to him, he didn’t _want_ to hurt him. He liked the life he saw in Regulus, the spirit; he didn’t want to break him. Sirius needed to find a way to mold Regulus into something obedient but still _alive_ , still _challenging._

Regulus handled Sirius entering him very well. He didn’t make a sound, although he was biting his lower lip so hard that it turned dead white. Sirius took one of Regulus’s bloodied hands and pressed it to his lips. The nails were cracked and worn down from Regulus’s time in the closet.

Regulus screamed when Sirius started to move inside him.

“No, no, no, stop,” he cried.

“Shh.” Sirius took advantage of Regulus parting his lips and kissed him slowly. “I’m not hurting you.”

“It doesn’t feel good,” Regulus complained. His voice sounded breathless and strained. “Sirius, I can’t breathe right, you have to stop!”

Strangely, Sirius did. He scooped a hand behind Regulus’s back, pulling him up against his chest, and sat back a ways. He was still fully sheathed inside his brother. Regulus’s head lolled onto his shoulder.

“It’s just because you’re panicking,” Sirius whispered into Regulus’s hair. “Just sit with me and breathe for a moment, okay? Breathe slowly, you’re hyperventilating.”

Regulus mewled affirmatively and tried to relax.

“All right, Reggie,” said Sirius after a brief respite. “I’ll make you a deal. You can let me start moving again or we can lie like this all evening.”

“Just finish,” Regulus said immediately. “I just want to be done.”

Sirius smirked and toppled them both forward so he was on top of Regulus again. “I’m sorry,” he said, smiling. “I didn’t quite catch that. What do you want me to do?”

Regulus closed his eyes and looked away. Sirius bit down on the shell of his ear, making him flinch. “You have to tell me what you want or you don’t get it, Reggie. Go on, ask me ever-so-nicely.”

“Why are you making me do this?” Regulus asked in a broken tone. “Just do what you brought me here to do and then let me be, _please!_ ”

Sirius shook his head and tapped Regulus smartly on the nose. “Hu-uh,” he said playfully. He rolled his hips agonizingly slowly, making Regulus tense up and gasp. “Beg me for it, Regulus, or I’ll go nice and slow and make it last all night. I’ve plenty of potions to make that possible…”

“I hate you.”

“Hm?” Sirius asked in warning. “ ‘Go slowly, big brother, _please_ ’ ?”

“No!”

“ ‘I want you to fuck me _all night!_ ’ ?”

“NO!” Regulus screamed. “Please, Sirius, just do it fast and get off of me!”

“Do what fast, Regulus?”

The muscles in Regulus’s stomach and chest were twitching like mad beneath Sirius’s fingers. He was muttering very fast…words and phrases Sirius couldn’t quite discern. Every few seconds he caught a word, though. _Home…Mum…Daddy…_ Lord Voldemort’s name even cropped up once or twice, as well as addresses and names Sirius assumed belonged to Regulus’s Slytherin classmates.

“I’m waiting, Regulus…”

“…Please fuck me, Sirius,” Regulus said through gritted teeth. His whole face was on fire. Sirius couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his brother so humiliated. “A—as fast as you can!”

Sirius obliged. “We need to work on your dirty talk,” he admitted.

Regulus’s body was stiff and unresponsive, but it didn’t deter Sirius. Regulus was better than he’d ever imagined. Years of fantasizing about impaling the boy beneath him, of holding on to him completely, were finally realized. Sirius couldn’t get enough of him. He licked the salty sweat and tears from Regulus’s face and neck. He dragged one hand down Regulus’s chest, grazing his nipple. Regulus made a disquieted sound but otherwise held his tongue. He seemed to be getting used to Sirius’s steady thrusts.

It didn’t take long for Sirius to find out what horrified Regulus even more than being coerced into begging. Sirius took a brief break from what he was doing, slid out of Regulus and took him into his mouth again. Regulus hollered and thrashed worse than he had ever done thus far. His hands clenched into fists, and since Regulus knew better than to strike Sirius, he struck at the mattress instead.  

Sirius could feel Regulus’s limp member coming slowly to life between his lips. “Don’t be like that,” he chided, pushing Regulus back down by the shoulders. He substituted his mouth for his hand, so he could rub his face against Regulus’s. “You love it.”

Regulus shook his head, but there wasn’t much fight left in him anymore. “I don’t want it,” he said meekly. “Sirius, please won’t you leave me something?”

Sirius thought for a moment. “That depends. May I have a kiss?” he asked.

Regulus nodded fiercely. He grabbed Sirius’s head with both hands and crashed their lips together. Sirius saw sparks behind his eyes. Regulus pressed deep against Sirius’s lips. He slid his mouth down to Sirius’s chin for a moment and held there. Sirius groaned in pleasure. “M’kay, deal,” he said blissfully. “No touching you tonight.”

Regulus nodded frantically. Then Sirius flipped him over onto his stomach and slid back inside him. Soon after he came with a low growl and fell, spent, next to his brother on the bed, one arm draped heavily across the backs of Regulus’s shoulders.

Regulus squirmed in discomfort. His hand twitched like he wanted to reach down and feel the mess Sirius had left in and on him, but he didn’t dare.

“Breathe, Regulus,” Sirius reminded him, rubbing his back a little. “You’re all right. I’ll take care of you; you’re all right…”

Regulus didn’t resist as his brother got them settled under the covers, Regulus positioned snugly in his arms. Sirius had never felt more content. The culmination of all he’d ever thought about as a teenager was sweeter than even he’d imagined. He traced small lines up and down Regulus’s jaw, a comforting action that had always put Regulus into a deep sleep when he’d been little. Slowly, Regulus’s eyelids came together and his breathing evened out. In sleep, he lost his defensive posture and went limp. Sirius twined their fingers together and stared at Regulus for a long time, staving off sleep for hours just to revel in his victory.

* * *

 

_8:30 am (Regulus)_

Regulus woke the next morning feeling outrageously sore and surprisingly cold. Bleary-eyed, he sat up and realized he’d kicked the blankets off in his sleep. As he reached for them with shivering hands, the full weight of what had happened the previous evening came crashing over him like a tidal wave.

Regulus slumped back against the headboard, his breath coming in short, painful gasps.

He had had sex with his brother, and not just some light fooling around as might have been excusable under different circumstances, no…Regulus had let Sirius go all the way with him. Regulus clapped an unsteady hand over his mouth. What was wrong with him? How could he have allowed this to happen? He should have struggled more, he should have stayed in the closet, he should have…

Regulus let out a dry sob. What was going to become of him now? How could he ever live with this? What if people found out?

 _People?_ Regulus asked himself. _What people?_ Sirius was probably going to keep him here until he bored of him, at which time Regulus guessed he would be disposed of, or at the very least turned over to the dementors. Part of Regulus had thought that Sirius might have had his fill after one night, after all…what was so special about Regulus that Sirius would want him more than once? He’d thought he’d likely be cast out the moment Sirius got what he wanted but yet here Regulus still was…

Sirius was gone, though. Regulus noticed the sun was high in the window. Sirius had probably woken hours ago. Had he gone out, or was he still in the house? Regulus perked an ear and cautiously got out of bed, trying to listen for signs of his brother.

He could hear muted voices in the front hall—not just Sirius, but someone else as well! Regulus’s heart soared. Quickly, he threw on his trousers, which had been left on the floor, and then surged out of the bedroom, yelling loudly.

Sirius was already outside when Regulus reached the front entryway. Regulus could see him waving as a school friend of his took off down the walkway, obviously preparing to disapparate.

“No!” Regulus screamed. He looked down and saw the door was slightly ajar, meaning the wards on it were temporarily open. He flung the door wide open and pushed past a startled Sirius, but he was too late; the other man had disappeared.

It took both Regulus and Sirius a second to realize that Regulus was outside the house. For a few tense seconds, they merely stared at each other. Then Regulus sprinted like mad into the trees. His first instinct had been to run into the muggle street, but Sirius would be able to overpower any non-wizards so easily it was laughable. If Regulus ran to the sanctuary of a muggle passerby, Sirius would simply take him back and give the muggle a nasty memory charm for their troubles. So instead, Regulus took off into the small orchard that separated Sirius’s house from a small plot of farmland. With luck he could duck around in the trees and then maybe sprint through the field and to the river that lay beyond. Hopefully there was enough uneven ground in the fields to let Regulus dodge any spellwork Sirius might throw at him.

As Regulus flung himself around a particularly large apple tree, he realized Sirius wasn’t following him. Somehow that concerned him even more than if his brother had been hot on his heels. What could make Sirius so confident he could find Regulus back amongst all the trees and brush?

Nervous, Regulus ducked under some low-hanging branches and stopped to catch his breath and plot his next move. That was when he heard the footsteps, too light to be a human’s. Regulus turned around slowly and found himself face to face with a large, black dog. It was stalking after him with the confidence of a creature on the hunt. Regulus backed away from it.

“Get—get out of here,” he pleaded. “You’ll give me away…”

The dog leapt for him and Regulus had no hope to react. The dog hit him hard and knocked him against a tree trunk. Everything started spinning. Regulus was unconscious by the time he hit the ground.

* * *

 

He woke up back in his closet with two fresh, painful bruises from where the dog’s paws had struck his chest as well as a smattering of scratches and bitemarks around his face and neck. His first thoughts were disappointment that the bear of a dog hadn’t had the decency to just finish him off after it had knocked him down. Likely Sirius had been drawn to the noise and found him in time to pull the animal off.

“It was dangerous of you to run away from me like that,” Sirius’s disembodied voice said from outside Regulus’s closet door. “If someone else had found you, you could have ended up in prison or thrown back to your old master.”

Regulus didn’t know if he was expected to answer, so he stayed silent and let Sirius lecture him.

“I know you’re awake in there, Regulus, because I heard you shuffling about.” Sirius’s voice was getting excited. “Now I’m going to leave you in there for a few more hours, but I’ll return and unlock the door. And when I do, I expect you to come with me to the bedroom and we’ll get your punishment out of the way. How does that sound?”

Still Regulus said nothing.

Sirius tapped idly on the closet door.

“I’ll be back later. Remember, if you try to disobey me or keep me waiting, it will only make things worse for you.”

* * *

 

Regulus’s life continued in this fashion for quite some time. He lost count of the days, but enough time had passed that Sirius had given him a haircut.

Regulus came to fear the time spent alone in the closet more than his brother, and found himself bargaining for all he was worth to garner more time free of it. Sirius seemed to realize that Regulus would rather be beaten to within an inch of his life than spend more than a few minutes in that dreaded room, and so he came to utilize the closet only when he felt a very, _very_ severe punishment was needed—or if Sirius was not to be home.

And Sirius seemed to be spending more and more time away from home lately. He told Regulus he was going to meetings of the Order of the Phoenix and Regulus believed him. He didn’t like the situation, though. When Sirius left the house, he locked Regulus up in the closet, whether Regulus had misbehaved or not, and that had caused more than a few tantrums. To be honest, Sirius liked the fuss Regulus would make every time he left; it was further proof that Reggie still had some fight left in him. If Regulus had disobeyed Sirius in some major way, he never fought against the consequences anymore. In fact, the last time Regulus had dared to bite Sirius during oral sex, he had actually run to the closet of his own accord, apologies tripping over each other as they fell from his lips.

It was different when Sirius locked Regulus away before he left home, though. Regulus would kick and scream. He would drag his feet and occasionally drop to the ground, forcing Sirius to pick him up and carry him. And every time Sirius would stroke his brother’s hair and face, insisting that the boy wasn’t in any trouble, and that Sirius would come back very soon. Sometimes he promised Regulus small favors like extra food or letting him bathe on his own. 

* * *

 

It was sometime near mid-October that Regulus learned that the big, black dog that had accosted him in the orchard was actually Sirius’s animagus form. Regulus had been momentarily dazzled by the revelation when Sirius had mentioned it. For one brief moment, he forgot himself…forgot his situation…

“Can you teach me how to be an animagus, too?” he asked breathlessly, like any excited younger sibling would. Sirius was currently lazing about the living room floor as a dog, and Regulus was sitting criss-cross next to him, petting his soft fur in a very cautious way. Sirius transformed back into a human and laughed at him.

“And let you have a wand?” he asked sarcastically. “Nice try, Reggie.”

“You don’t need a wand to transform,” Regulus said petulantly, though his voice was trailing off into a fearful silence.

“No, but you need one to learn the technique.” Sirius changed back and let Regulus resume petting him.

Sirius’s animagus form was something of a minor comfort to Regulus, who found the dog much easier to talk to, and who even gained a bit of calm from stroking the thick, black fur whenever Sirius gave him the chance. On more than one occasion, Regulus had woken up in Sirius’s bed buried under the heat of the large, black creature.

But it wasn’t long before the dog became just one more object of terror for Regulus, and it only took one sentence.

Regulus had been arguing with Sirius, and trying to fight his way out of sleeping with him for what would have been the third time in one day. He was exhausted, and Sirius wanted to tie him up in some kind of corset that had a thousand ties and looked like it would cut off the air to Regulus’s lungs. So Regulus went so far as to take a swing at his brother. Then Sirius had pinned him face-first to the mattress and hissed, “You’ll let me fuck you how I like, or I’ll leave you tied to this bed and return transformed.”

* * *

 

It was the day before Halloween. Regulus only knew the date because Sirius had made some remarks earlier about how the streets would be filled with children the next night, and how he’d glamoured their house to look like no one was home. When nightfall rolled around, Regulus found himself curled up on Sirius’s bed. Sirius had only just gotten home and released Regulus from captivity, so Regulus’s movements were slow and pained while he tried to uncramp his muscles. Sirius was shuffling about, getting undressed and telling Regulus happily about his day. Regulus wasn’t listening, though. He had a plan, and for his plan to work, he needed Sirius to be really _really_ tired.

He wouldn’t live like this any longer. He _couldn’t._ He had to take action of some sort.

“I missed you,” Regulus said softly. Sirius looked at him in puzzlement for a second, then smiled.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, crawling onto the bed next to his brother. “I missed you, too, little one.”

Regulus cringed when he heard the nickname. It was something Sirius and their parents had used to call him when he was very young. Something about hearing it now, moments before Sirius would surely start fucking him, was unsettling. Nevertheless, Regulus shook it off. He slid his arms around Sirius and buried his face in his neck, leaving shy kisses from his clavicle to his jaw.

“What is all this?” Sirius asked, chuckling. “Slow down, we’ve all night.”

Regulus sat back and folded his hands. He looked down and mumbled, “Want it all night.”

“Huh?” Sirius asked, pushing Regulus’s chin up to look at him. “What was that?”

Regulus bit his lip in embarrassment.

“You that eager, are you?”

Regulus nodded. He rolled onto his stomach to hide the fact that he was the farthest thing from aroused at the moment. He gave Sirius his most appealing look.

Sirius didn’t waste any time. He climbed gracefully on top of his brother and kissed his quivering back. “Well let me get you ready then,” he murmured. His soft words spilled out over Regulus’s skin, making him shutter. Regulus could only hope that Sirius thought the motion came from anticipation and not the fear and resentment that Regulus actually felt.

There was something about times when Sirius was gentle that gave Regulus a strange feeling. It made Regulus feel like this was his fault. If all it took was his perceived willingness to calm Sirius’s violence, then Regulus was responsible for his own misery, wasn’t he? At least in part?

Did it matter at this point? Regulus wondered. His mind was drifting in and out of the experience. Every now and then, something would draw him back to reality and he’d note with minor amusement that he’d been shifted into another position. Right now he was on all fours, and Sirius had an arm looped around his stomach as if he were holding him up. When Sirius slowed down, Regulus was attuned to each beat of his brother’s heart as his cock pulsed gently inside him.

Somewhere in his mind, Regulus reveled in the closeness. Sirius had paid little comfort to him as a child (at least when he had been awake), and Regulus knew now that that was something that had been missing in his childhood. He had wanted to be close to this brother, but Sirius had always seemed so distant, so preoccupied. So when the time had come, Regulus had rejected him.

That had been what had happened, hadn’t it? Sirius had wanted Regulus to run away with him. At the time, Regulus had thought it ludicrous. He wouldn’t see Sirius much less if he were living elsewhere than he did when Sirius was at Grimmauld Place. Their relationship was to remain mostly unchanged.

But that hadn’t been Sirius’s intention. Regulus saw clearly now that Sirius had been asking him to _run away_  with him, like star-crossed lovers in some demented children’s tale. Sirius had so consumed himself with his unnatural love of Regulus that he had been unable or unwilling to see that Regulus didn’t return his feelings. Perhaps that night he had expected Regulus to cling to him, beg him not to leave home, not to flee to the Potters…and had Regulus done so, would Sirius have taken that as the go-ahead to drag Regulus off elsewhere? Where would Regulus be now if he had gone willingly with Sirius five years ago?

But Regulus was not in love with his brother, he knew that. Regulus _loved_ his brother, he always had. There was a tight bond there than nothing would be able to break. And Regulus could appreciate now how Sirius must have suffered in silence all those years, trying to reconcile illicit feelings for his little brother.

But Regulus couldn’t forgive him. There comes a time when you have to look out for yourself. Regulus was _not_ in love with Sirius, and he could not live his life humoring the man. He needed to break free.

Regulus convinced Sirius to make use of his potions that night. “ _Again,_ ” he’d whisper each time Sirius finished. And Sirius, completely overwhelmed by Regulus’s sudden affections, bought it hook, line and sinker. By the time early morning rolled around, Sirius had fallen into the sleep of the dead, he was so exhausted. Regulus, too, could have cried from how broken and tired he felt, but he kept himself awake. He slid out from Sirius’s hot, heavy body and got dressed. Then he fetched a glass of water from the kitchen.

Regulus didn’t know how to escape the house. It could take him days to unscramble the wards even if he stole Sirius’s wand, so he needed to make sure Sirius wasn’t going to wake up and stop him.

Moreover, he needed to make sure Sirius wasn’t going to wake up and come after him. Ever.

A spell wouldn’t do. Regulus had never had the heart for it. His throat was closed up with fear and shame. He doubted he could speak right now, let alone cast successful magic. So instead he rolled Sirius over onto his back. Sirius didn’t wake, didn’t even stir. Regulus had truly worn him out, and a deep sleep was a known side effect of taking more than one or two of those vitality potions in a single night.

Regulus could do this. He knew how dry drowning worked. Sirius’s mouth was wide open right now as he breathed heavily in his sleep. All Regulus had to do was pour enough water down his brother’s throat to convince his lungs to close off his airways.  It would be simple. Relatively quick. _Permanent._

Regulus felt a cold tear escape his eye. Why couldn’t Sirius have just taken him in? Why did he have to do all this? If Sirius had just kept his sick thoughts to himself the two of them could have lived happily together, Regulus hidden safely from the world and Sirius looking out for him. Regulus would never have been the wiser…

Regulus steeled himself. If he did this now, then by this time tomorrow he could be free of this nightmare.

His hands were shaking. His heart felt cold. He could do this…

…only he couldn’t. When the dawn broke an hour later, it lit up a sleeping Sirius, with Regulus sat shaking next to him, a hand twined in his brother’s hair and his face ashen-white.

* * *

 

Regulus was in the end as he always was: afraid of hard permanence. The next day, Halloween, Sirius left the house in a frenzy. He didn’t lock Regulus away, but rather allowed him to stay resting in the bedroom. With a chaste kiss to Regulus’s forehead, Sirius left, and after several days of being alone, Regulus realized he was never coming back.

Time passed for Regulus in a haze. A few times, people came by the house. At first they couldn’t get in, thanks to Sirius’s wards, but then the wards started to fade, as wards are want to do when the caster dies or their magic fades. Soon people came knocking, and each time they did, Regulus numbly opened the door and explained that he owned the house. The man who had sold it to him had left some months ago.

Regulus had no idea if he would stay, or how long he would if he chose to. But things felt unfinished in this house, unresolved. And Regulus Black didn’t like to walk out before things were done.

* * *

 

_Azkaban Island, June 1993 (Sirius)_

 The screams from the prison could be heard even over the ferocious roar of the waves. Sirius paddled all four legs frantically to keep his head above water. Even then he struggled to breath. He was free, though, and it would be hours before those sightless dementors returned to realize he was not just fading, but _gone._

It seemed to take hours before Sirius felt his leg crack against a rock. Soon after, he tumbled up onto the shoreline, collapsing in a craggy dune to regain some strength. He opened his mouth and spat out Rabastan’s spare cigarette. It landed on a sandy rock, filthy.

What an odd picture he posed, a dog with a smoke…

Then Sirius’s paws morphed back into hands and he rubbed water and grime off his face, sitting up. When he was fully human again, he carefully plucked the cigarette off the ground. He wiped it on his grungy robes and popped it back into his mouth. He’d left his lighter behind in Azkaban, but that hardly mattered to him now.

It would be daybreak soon, and he’d best get into hiding fast. He had a traitor to kill…

…and a lover to find.

 

_Signed/tenkuroi_

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously I do not condone any of this shit IRL.


End file.
